my grandma has a blue cotton dress that she wears at home
it has a different scent every day
the smell of each night’s dinner
the breeze from a brisk walk outside
or the dampness of the air during rainy season
the smell of orchids from the florists’ shop, pastries from the bakery across the street,
freshly cut melon for dessert, steaming morning coffee
the scents of the lotions she uses and her shampoo
stitched deep inside the span of threads within the fabric of her blue dress
her closet is a fusion of attire
eye-catching golf shirts in jolting colors
button-up tops in solid shades
a long, straight dress in sunset plaid
vertical stripes running up and down pastel blouses
she likes modest styles with classy hues
shoes without adornments, elegant traces
there’s a Korean proverb, “Clothes are wings”
that means clothes make the person
my grandma says clothes will show
who you are
because people will judge by the first thing they see
how magical it is that we can change how somebody
first interprets us
just by the variation of simple cloth
